


Glimpses

by Chloe_at_Eleusis



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Rogue/Pyro - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chloe_at_Eleusis/pseuds/Chloe_at_Eleusis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First meetings. Under very special circumstances, there can be more than one. AU movieverse. *Incomplete/On indefinite hiatus*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my ongoing efforts to consolidate all my writing here on AO3.
> 
> Disclaimer: Does anyone think I actually own these characters? Damn. Maybe it's just me.

She never knew, then or later, why he was in Mississippi. She never had a chance to ask him at the time, and when she did have a chance, the point was already moot.  
  
Their first meetings were more than 2 years apart.  
  
David was hurrying just ahead of her along the torn-up sidewalk, churned into mud by the pounding and incessant rain, and he slipped and fell just before she did. Through her impulsive laughter at the ridiculousness of it all she heard a voice say, “Hey.”   
  
She saw his arm first, soaking wet in the rain, his gray t-shirt adhering to his skin and to the indiscernibly-colored leather jacket under his other elbow as he reached down to David to offer a hand up. “Thanks, man.” David’s soft drawl of acceptance offset the fact that the boy who’d helped him up wasn’t from around here.  
  
Marie, startled, had made no move to get up yet, though she could feel the mud cold against her calves as she watched David get his balance before he turned toward her. But the stranger was already beside her, reaching for her hand, and David, seeing her taken care of, turned to check on the damage to his brand-new and very expensive jeans.  
  
“Are you okay?” The boy was a Yankee, the short consonants and harsh vowels dying quickly in the water-filled air. Still smiling, she accepted his hand, looking up at his face to nod at him.  
  
She always considered that it was a miracle that she recognized him when they met later; her first sight of his face was unique, unnerving, and utterly breathtaking.   
  
It was only a brief, rain-hazed glimpse, individual features flashing in clarity only as the part of a greater whole: dark, gleaming blue eyes, thickly rimmed by rain-heavy brown lashes; a sculpted nose; a lushly masculine mouth, its lips parting slightly as she raised her face to his.   
  
She knew they’d both stopped breathing. She felt his hand tighten on hers.  
  
It couldn’t have been more than five seconds before she heard David’s, “You okay, Marie?”, but it seemed they’d been gazing at each other for whole minutes of time. Turning to look at David felt as though she were moving in drying glue. Her eyes left his at the last possible second.  
  
Her hand didn’t leave his at all.   
  
David was still preoccupied with his jeans- at least, he wasn’t looking at them, hadn’t looked at them, or he wouldn’t have had that rueful grin on his face- and he held his hand out towards her as he looked up.  
  
The stranger’s hand tensed, and Marie ducked her chin as she walked away from him, their arms extending as she moved, not relinquishing their grip on each other until physical contact was no longer possible, fingers trailing across each other at the last.   
  
She felt him staring after them.   
  
She felt like a coward. And, inexplicably, traitorous.  
  
She didn’t enjoy the movie. She didn’t even really breathe deeply for the rest of the evening.  
  
David, normally a more than little jealous, thought so little of the 15-second episode that he never even mentioned it.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t even know why he’d stopped.  
  
It wasn’t as if he actually cared whether or not they sat there in the mud all damn day. And what kind of town didn’t repair its sidewalks even in midsummer? Barbaric.  
  
But she was laughing, had been laughing ever since her ass hit the pavement, and the breathy, husky tone had the bubbling, unforced sound of pure joy.  
  
It caught at him. Something in his chest tightened.  
  
By that time, he’d stopped, but he was beside her- boyfriend? Brother? Whoever he was, he was with her. “Hey.” John offered a hand. It wasn’t like one act of help was going to make him a freaking boy scout or something.   
  
The drawled, “Thanks, man,” was already behind him as he turned back towards the girl. She was still chuckling a little, her face tilting down towards the sidewalk, and he didn’t just offer her a hand. He reached for one of hers, asking, “Are you okay?”  
  
A small part of him almost choked. Clearly, however, it wasn’t the part actually controlling his actions.   
  
And he really did want to know.  
  
His mind whirling now, he watched as she met his hand partway, tipping her head back, still smiling as she nodded, as he pulled her up.  
  
And then her face was close to his and he got his first good look at her through the hazy rain and he felt his hand clutch at her, instinctively keeping her with him, his mind suddenly still as he gazed at her.  
  
He would have recognized her anywhere after just that one look at her face. Lush mouth, her lips parted slightly, creamy skin that looked like she’d just borrowed it from some kind of flower, brows arched and winging over a pair of huge caramel brown eyes with long, dark lashes, wide and trusting and- incendiary.   
  
Something in him leaped in recognition as they seared through him.   
  
Those eyes widened a little as he felt her hand clench his. He couldn’t seem to get a deep breath.   
  
And then he heard, “You okay, Marie?”  
  
 _Marie._ Her name was Marie. Beautiful.  
  
And then his brain jerked into motion again and howled, _No!_ as she began to turn away from him, eyes still on his. His hand tightened further as she turned her head, dragging her eyes from his at the last minute, her chin dropping as she started to walk away.  
  
Her fingers were still wrapped around his. Still clinging to him even as they slipped through his hand until he was no longer touching her.   
  
He stood there in the rain, watching her walk away from him. At least her jerk of a boyfriend- he couldn’t be anything else, with the way he was looking at her- had waited for her.   
  
For Marie. He tried the name on his tongue, barely whispering it as she disappeared in the curtain of rain. The feel of it brought that roaring heat again, that leap of- something. Something.   
  
“Marie.” At least he knew her name.  
  
But she had never spoken to him.


	3. Chapter 3

A new girl. Great.  
  
Someone else to tune out.  
  
He didn’t even bother to turn around, the brief chatter of voices hushing as Storm- oh, _sorry_ , Ms. Munro- strode back to the front of the room. From the corner of his eye he could see her sitting in the row behind Bobby, across the room.   
  
He saw Bobby turn and speak to her, then leave something on her desk.  
  
Hrm. He didn’t usually act that way when he met a girl for the first time. She must be really pretty. John was tempted to crane around and check her out, but squashed the impulse. Let _her_ look at _him_.  
  
One fireball, coming up.  
  
What the- damn it. Fucking Bobby. Since when was he a teacher’s aide? Skinny private-school lily-white asshole.  
  
John was going to repeat every word of that to Bobby- preferably as he was getting slaughtered on the basketball court during lunch. Nothing like a little public humiliation in return for the same thing.  
  
John’d wait to meet the new girl till after he’d gotten back the face Bobby’d just taken.

* * *

She walked in and was immediately the focus of what felt like a hundred eyes. It was probably closer to 20, though.  
  
Oh, well that was _so_ much better. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the stupidity of her own mental monologue. Like it made a difference to her- as far as she was concerned, more than two was too many.  
  
Was dangerous.  
  
The kid in front of her turned around. "Bobby Drake." Hmmm. He was kind of cute.  
  
“Welcome to mutant high.” Really cute. Whoa- was that a… rose? Made of _ice_?  
  
 _Wicked._   
  
She smiled at Bobby in thanks, lips in a deep and genuine curve for the first time since she and Logan had exchanged their real names.  
  
It made her stomach clutch, too, though. The last person who had given her flowers had been David- flowers cut from his mom’s garden. There had been flowers in his hospital room, too, when she’d sneaked in to see him one last time before she left Caldecott.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a fireball on the other side of the classroom and Bobby's blast of ice. He turned and looked at her again, but she kept her eyes forward. No way she was getting in trouble on her very first day.   
  
The classroom disruptions were way more interesting here, though. She permitted herself a small smile down at her desk. This place might be okay. Might be cool.  
  
She'd wait and see.   
  
Still- maybe she could have a friend here. A real friend, like Logan. She smiled a little more. That would bring her up to a grand total of two.  
  
But not a boyfriend. She looked at the rose melting slowly on her desk, hearing David’s gasps as he convulsed. Feeling his terror ringing again through her head.  
  
There was a small puddle on the desk by the time class was over, but her gloves- and eyes- were bone-dry.


	4. Chapter 4

Rogue was losing patience. “I want to be able to touch again.”

“Rogue, you understand that we may not be able-”

“You asked what’d give me enough of a reason to stay.” Her drawl became more pronounced with strong emotion. “That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“We want to help. You know that.”

She met Xavier’s eyes. He was a good man, she could see that, and she could see that he was concerned about her. But she wasn’t his _first_ concern.

And she knew she would never have a life with mutants or anybody else if there was no way to control this- thing.

She nodded. “I know you really want to help. But this is the only kind I want. The only kind I’ll take.”

Xavier looked at her for a long moment. “I see that.” He nodded, once. “I will attempt to help you gain control, and I will ask other students if they are willing to aid you as well. It will mean letting them know exactly what you can do and what you’re doing, Rogue.”

She didn’t even have to think before agreeing. “They’d have to know a lot of it anyhow, so they won’t accidentally touch me.”

“And while you are here, you will have to attend classes and obey the rules as a regular student.”

Classes would once have held some pleasure for her- she’d liked English and art classes. But she’d seen too much in the past year to agree to anything without getting details. Her voice was slightly louder as she asked, “What rules? What classes? Do I need to pay for-”

She trailed off as Xavier shook his head. “Standard rules, Rogue- for example, curfew is midnight on school nights for those between 14 and 18, 1 am on holidays, and we ask that you eat meals at the same time as the rest of the school unless you are sick. Classes are standard college prep. Your new schoolmates will show you around and explain-”

Rogue interrupted again and it occurred to her that her mama would have smacked her upside the head by now… she squashed the thought and the tears that came with it. “Are they all- are they-” Her voice trailed off again as his nod, given now with a comforting smile. “Yes, Rogue. Everyone here is a mutant. You will never have to pay anything to live here- this school is a charitable foundation.”

She sat silent at last, gazing at her hands twisting in her lap, hope welling in her no matter how hard she tried to push it down. Maybe she could be- not normal, but- not helpless any more. Not almost crazy with every brush of skin.

Not so alone. Maybe.

She looked up, and he saw her assent in her eyes. For anyone other than Xavier, a telepath who had seen too much of the world, her next question would have come as a surprise. “What should I call you?” He suppressed a smile. You could take the girl out of the South, but… “You may address me as Professor Xavier, or just Professor, Rogue.”

She nodded. The silence stretched between them, tensing until the rasp of her gloves against each other became audible in the hush. The Professor spoke over it.

“And what do you want me to call you, my dear?” She looked up at him, and before her face closed he read in it all the longing and pain of the prison of her skin. His heart contracted. He would help this child, if he possibly could.

Her smile was wide, but it never reached her eyes. “Rogue.”

She turned in a _swish_ of flaring fabric and was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

“Keep going, Icepick. Keep trying. Keep bringing me that ball- thanks- I’ll just take that- now-” John spun around Bobby, yanking hard at the ball, shoving his shoulder into the other boy’s solar plexus as he spun again. “Shut _up_ , John!” Bobby grabbed for the ball, missed, grabbed again, knocking John over just after he took the shot.

“Such dirty trash talk you got, Icepick. I’m scared of your superior wit. That would be… ungh…” John peeled himself off the court, examining his scraped elbow, “another two points. And that’s 22. My game.”

“You’re such an asshole, Johnny.” Bobby picked up the ball and started walking back towards the side door.

“Cute nickname. Too bad you still lost.” Bobby lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Shove it.”

“Again with the brilliant cussing. Hey, at least I’m an asshole all the time, not just to show off in front of the new girl.” Bobby turned around with a grimace and threw the ball, hard, straight at John’s smirking face.

John caught it and laughed harder as Bobby stormed inside. The last shot really _was_ the sweetest. Nothin’ but net.

* * *

Rogue walked out the side door. She’d passed what looked like kind of a small, nice cafeteria, but she wasn’t hungry. Yet.

She just needed to stand outside. To _breathe_ and sit and try and take in the huge change she’d just tumbled to.

There was a boy standing on the basketball court right in front of her, clutching a ball and laughing.

Her heart lifted, warmed a little from its frozen numbness. It’d been a while since she’d been around anyone who laughed like that. Smiling a little too, she walked a little closer, approaching him and the edge of the court from the right.

Shit. He’d scraped hell out of his elbow. She must have thawed more than she’d thought because she started forward again, her thoughts not quite catching up to her feet or her mouth as she said, “You okay? Your elbow… you’re still bleeding-”

He stilled for a minute, the smile fading a little from his face, before turning to face her with it back in place. Her eyes had moved to his arm again, and hell- it was still bleeding… she moved even closer, only a few feet from him now.

She didn’t see his eyes widen. Wasn’t paying attention when his breath stuttered. Didn’t see the smile melt from his face and the fire ignite in his eyes.

Until he _said her name_.

“Marie.”


	6. Chapter 6

“You okay? Your elbow… you’re still bleeding-”

He stiffened. For the last 2 years, every time he’d heard a woman drawl like that, he’d wondered if it might be her.

_Marie._

He hadn’t managed to forget that 30-second tsunami. But he’d almost managed to squash the stupid leap of hope, to stop himself from spinning around and looking frantically for her, like an idiot, like a stupid ignorant hopeful _kid_ …

It must be the new girl; nobody at Xavier’s sounded like that. He put the smile back on his face- it wasn’t her fault. He turned to face her.

And the ever-present embers at his belly’s pit leaped into roaring life and his body went hot as his heart dropped into his stomach and his chest must’ve stopped functioning because he certainly wasn’t breathing and he didn’t think his heart was beating either because it was _her,_ it finally was really her- here, and how in hell did she get _here-_ she must be a mutant too…

It was the last thought that got his breath started again. She must be a mutant too. She was like him, like them- safe, for him to talk to, for him to show what, who he was- for him to touch… His thoughts were tumbling so fast that he couldn’t have stopped himself if he’d tried.

And he wouldn’t have tried.

“Marie.”

Her eyes snapped to his, round with shock, and then widened even further as he once more reached for her hand.

And she didn’t draw away, didn’t move at all, not even to blink, her breathing accelerating, and John drew closer and didn’t, couldn’t take his eyes from hers because her fear was raw on her face, silent and unmistakable.

He had never imagined that she might be afraid of his touch. If she had been anyone else, if she hadn’t already touched him, if she hadn’t been a mutant too- he would have been angry, but the only thought he could summon was a bewildered, _What is she…? Why?_ as he touched her hand gently before sliding his fingers across her palm.

Across fabric. She was wearing gloves. _Why…?_

He didn’t dare ask. She hadn’t pulled away, but her breathing was even faster and her eyes were still so wide… He wanted so badly to touch her face, but she- she was terrified. He could read it in her stillness, in her shock, and groped for words that wouldn’t frighten her- or sound incredibly stupid- and failed. He couldn’t find a damn thing to say.

He had to say something. “Marie?”

“I- yes.” Breathy, barely more than a whisper, that _Yes_ seared through him. He could feel the flames pulse and leap, feel his body heat rise. “How did you know?”

“That it was you? I’d-” She was shaking her head no and he stopped himself. He didn’t need to tell her that he’d recognize her anywhere, that he had dreamed of her… _Get a grip, John._ “Oh. Your name? He said it. When he asked if you were okay.”

Her eyes weren’t as wide any more, her breathing less strained. She still looked as though she might bolt, though, and she swallowed hard before she spoke again. “Your name?”

“John.” He breathed it, finally able to smile again as she nodded, looking a only a little scared, now. He tried for a small joke. “Guess I can finally say ‘nice to meet you’…?” The tilt of his brow turned it into a question. She looked startled, and then the smallest flicker of a smile started at the corner of her mouth as she nodded again. “You can.” Her smile grew a little more. “I might not believe you-”

Relief swept him, shaping a grin as she continued, “and you might regret it later- but you can.”  He felt lightheaded with the release of tension and the still-rising blaze in his chest. She was still tense, still wary, but she wasn’t going to leave again. She was smiling at him, a real smile.

His gaze sharpened on her face. On her mouth.

It opened, pulling a long and shaky breath in through those soft pink lips, and he had a moment when he honestly wondered if it was possible for her to be sucking the air out of his body.

“Why are there flames in your eyes?”


End file.
